Have been writing since I was a kid. Won several awards for my writing as a child and an adult. Also a singer and songwriter.
The Black Hole Heart
The night was cold and still. It listened to me as I wearily walked to my front door. My nose was cold. I wanted so badly to be inside away from the snow. December, when everybody should be happy and jolly and smiling while gazing at the lights and the falling snow. I was happy. The happiest I had been for a long time anyway; I wasn't jumping around singing christmas carols but I wasn't in bed covering my face with my covers either. And for me, that's a good day. As I checked my bag for my house keys, I could feel how numb my fingers were becoming. Strange thought I guess, how can you feel numb if 'numb' is a word that describes not feeling anything? Behind me were the regular sounds of the village. A distant passing train, a dog barking in some far off garden, the constant sound of traffic, almost like waves from the sea. I finally feel my keys and put them into the lock so I can be in some kind of warmth after a long day. I wonder why I can't see any stars. The sky is usually so clear here, but tonight it's like someone turned off the stars one by one and replaced them with a dense, grey blanket they had thrown over the sky. That's when I stood on something, something made of cardboard. The snow had accumulated and buried what appeared to be a square cardboard box. I picked it up quickly and finally let myself in.